travel, wise

there are those people, 

who have ongoing conversation with space.

they listen for the tonality of the terrain,

as if for the conversationals that have surface travel.

those faces presenting of different places

are for those moments of presence

that carry on in silent but visually loud dialogues.

how familiar is somewhat friendly

yet travel offers an alternate to the feeling state

and the newness of the landscape 

gives off a poignant mood for the moment.

travel is then conversations unfolding unto themselves.

for some people have it 

that the mountains are handsome or dark brunettes.

some have it

that the deserts are blondes or somber souls.

what water is, is skin and smiles.

and camping is other than the mumble of the mundane.

some need the intimacy of whispering trees,

while open roads are anything  

not ordered from the menu.

those that need an open sky,

are looking for an unexpected angel in their lives.

while oceans offer alone time 

and for some solace spoken by somber-ing space.

for all movement of this kind

is considered to be cathartic,

as conversations of this nature

remain intimate and furthermore, undisclosed,

as if these are as fancifuls, deeply discussed,

as within soon-friendships, amongst strangers.

some just needed a mirror-view of a different kind,

as perspective and registry, 

used for their personal grounding.

it's a getaway as an interlude,

a refresh for sensory renewal and usage,

a potential bottom line, 

for dramas that otherwise would never end,

or as a wakeup call from the unexpected,

or the potential of dreams from a different palate,

or allowing oneself to be perceives as 

something else, other than,

or giving one's sensory, a sense of personal freedom

or the potential of an amusement ride 

befittingly filled with the utterly unusual.

where new and novel meet up 

with self in an unexpected response, 

as a break in the symphony of sounds

by a different orchestra in the foreground playing,

or an application of new style of punctuation,

from the monotone of what one would normally say.

for there is the rolling of miles by,

as if page turn after page turn

and potentially, new chapter after new chapter.

where location becomes a new philosophical perspective.

and just sensing the land,

gives a wider sense of internal comprehension,

self-applied.

just take me where I need to go

becomes a forthright act of trust 

and leaves one seg-ways away from self

being usually productively neurotic. 

for the blessedness of new perspectives, as the view,

brings on those reframes, like waterfalls mirror-reflecting,

and cloud patterns looking down.

thee, subtle sips of nature,

as if different and distinct brands of coffee,

as if where one goes to experience, never been,

or as a sense of personal growth

that can't fall prey to already accounted for.

precious are these moments of backdoor entry,

as a true sense of excitement,

without the overwhelming onrush of particulars,

where the watch-face doesn't render 

as numbers on demand.

this for giving life a new sense of one's own skin,

having moments of, 

"you've had to have been there",

and composures that than represented as serene.

where just getting by, looses it vacancy status,

as the compression of the moment 

is exuberance expressing as itself.

for once again, 

arriving at the essence of self as newborn,

without the rigor of figuring how to live it alive,

yet discovering small spaces 

of huge impressionistic impact,

as if the now is as if self-delivered,

the answer to questions

that in the otherwise, 

could have never been asked.

where then is a god of blind intentions

and do then carries on in a refresh of sacredness.

travel can then be a simple religion

as if from here to there, and back.

surely, next moments will keep happening

but travel is a way of blessing the passage,

as a way of physical embodiment,

with questions, answers and clues.

for even if you had a previous philosophy in mind,

that the senses otherwise couldn't pronounce,

travel gives it lyrics and say.

travel is ink to the page

whether you read it back later or not . . .